


forever

by VickyVicarious



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, basically canon compliant just with kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then the girl’s back, saving the day with her smile just as sharp, her eyes dark, and her voice thick with mirth. She’s so confident, Emma feels a little embarrassed about her pathetic first attempt at shoplifting.</p>
<p>“You’re part of my cover now,” the girl says when she tries to leave, and her smile’s still a smirk but friendlier now, shoulders shrugging a little in this coy kind of movement. It’s so – it’s kind of charming, and Emma can’t help the way she smiles back a little. The girl seems encouraged by that, goes on: “So what do you say, wanna go shopping?”</p>
<p>Emma’s smile turns into a grin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forever

She can tell right away.

Looks straight at Emma and she’s got this dragon smirk on her face, and Emma stops breathing for a second, convinced that she’s  _caught_ , until the other girl turns and walks away. She can feel her heart beating way too fast as she tucks the box of pop-tarts under her arm and makes for the door, nervous and rattled because this is the first time she’s ever done this.

(She used to try so hard to be  _good_ , in case someone was watching. In case someone wanted that.)

(She knows better now.)

And maybe it shouldn’t be any surprise when she is actually caught. Of course Emma’s fucked this up – she could feel it building, knew she was being too obvious, but she’s so  _hungry_  and she can’t get caught, they’ll send her back and she  _can’t_  go back, she can’t survive that anymore, she  _can’t_  –

And then the girl’s back, saving the day with her smile just as sharp, her eyes dark, and her voice thick with mirth. She’s so  _confident_ , Emma feels a little embarrassed about her pathetic first attempt at shoplifting.

“You’re part of my cover now,” the girl says when she tries to leave, and her smile’s still a smirk but friendlier now, shoulders shrugging a little in this coy kind of movement. It’s so – it’s kind of  _charming_ , and Emma can’t help the way she smiles back a little. The girl seems encouraged by that, goes on: “So what do you say, wanna go shopping?”

Emma’s smile turns into a grin.

(She feels like she’s in on the joke, for once. Maybe for the first time, the way they go to that same woman’s check-out lane and smile over-brightly at her while they pay, and the girl actually tilts her head to the side and blinks like some innocent little kid in a movie and Emma bites her tongue not to  _laugh_.)

Somehow, the other girl has made this  _fun_ , not to mention successful, and… well, maybe it’s still stupid, but:

“Trust me,” she says, and Emma doesn’t hesitate to follow when she starts running.

* * *

“I’m Emma, by the way,” she pants, and she’s got food in her hands, she managed to get them safely away, her blood’s rushing and her heart’s pounding. She feels better than she has in  _weeks_ . She can’t stop grinning.

“Lily,” the other girl sighs back, and she’s just as breathless, her smile just as wide – and  _genuine_ , not a joke at all. “Thanks for the help.”

“You got my back,” Emma says, “and I got yours.”

And in this moment – Lily laughing and her blood still rushing like victory in her veins – Emma doesn’t even  _try_  to call it even and leave. Doesn’t even remember to consider it.

(Lily’s smile is beautiful.)

(She can’t look away.)

* * *

Lily leads the way to a park for lunch, spreads a selection of their loot out on the ground like a picnic, “let’s eat in  _style_ ,” and Emma is cramming her first bite of sandwich in her mouth probably less than a minute later. She doesn’t even really think about it until Lily comments, and then…

Then, the words are spilling out of her lips so  _easily_ , it only takes ten seconds to get her talking about  _Cecelia_ , about everything that meant, and – it’s happened before. It’s happened so many times before, watching another kid get adopted is far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to Emma, but Cecelia wasn’t just someone else getting adopted.

(Cecelia was the end of Emma’s hope.)

And it should  _scare_  Emma that she can do this at all, let alone so easily. She’s never been talkative about herself like this, but somehow with Lily she feels comfortable saying stuff she’s never told anyone before.

(She’s never had anyone to tell. No one has ever wanted to listen.)

But Lily listens; Lily looks her in the eyes and finishes her sentence and she  _gets it_ , she’s – she’s just the  _same_ , and it’s.

Emma shifts over a little bit, so her fingers brush against Lily’s in the grass.

“Were you in a home too?” she asks, and her voice feels so soft, she hardly recognizes it. “That guy chasing you – is he from social services? Is he trying to take you back?”

There’s a long pause before Lily can answer. She looks… lost.

“Yeah,” she says, finally, quietly, and she shifts a little closer too. Her fingers are warm against Emma’s.

Emma’s throat feels a little dry.

* * *

“Here’s an idea,” Lily says. “Come with me.”

“Really?” Emma asks, and there’s a lightness in her stomach. She has lots of reasons to like the idea, a bed and a roof and at least a few more meals before she has to try and shoplift again… but none of those are why she’s smiling so wide.

“Why not?” Lily asks, and her fingers slip between Emma’s, warm and soft and they’re holding hands, now. “We’d be better off if we stick together.”

Emma doesn’t answer, but her smile’s a living thing, she can’t hold it back.

She squeezes Lily’s hand, and Lily laughs a little.

(It’s a warm sound. Emma feels it like a fire in her chest.)

* * *

Lily keeps knowing what to do. The only time she hesitates is when they’re trying to get into the house they’ve chosen, and even then it’s just a moment where she pauses before punching in the back window with her bare hand.

She uses her elbow instead, and waits until most of the glass has fallen before reaching inside to open the lock. They step in together, standing close with their shoulders brushing, and take in the sights. This place is something, all right. Probably the nicest house Emma’s ever been in.

“Not too shabby, huh?” Lily asks, and when Emma nods and looks over she’s watching with a big grin on her face, clearly enjoying Emma’s wide eyes. She looks away quickly after being caught, though, and as Emma looks down at her, she can see Lily swallow, like something’s making her nervous.

Emma doesn’t say a thing. Just – keeps looking at Lily, feeling that little smile on her lips, and she does  _want_  to say something, but she’s not sure what.

Lily glances up at her again, and it’s Emma turn to look away fast and nervous. She can feel herself blushing.

* * *

Sometimes, in the next couple of hours, it feels too good to be true. They don’t do anything special, not really – just hang out and eat snacks and play video games, and all right, it  _is_  special. To Emma at least, all of this is hugely special, not just because she’s never had the freedom to eat half a bag of popcorn and dip her finger straight into a Nutella jar and suck on three sour candies at once to see if they’ll make her cry, not to mention flop back onto a huge couch and play this dumb racing gaming over and over and lose every time – no, this is special because she’s doing it  _with_  someone. With Lily.

Lily dips her popcorn into the Nutella and laughs at Emma’s wrinkled nose, stuffs six Pringles in her mouth at once and then spills crumbs everywhere trying to eat them, nudges Emma in the side with a devious look in her eye and a controller in her hand and asks, “D’you wanna give it a go?” It gets more and more ridiculous _very_ quickly; they’re hyped up on sugar, standing on their feet as they strain over the controllers and shout and laugh at the screen, and Lily is  _amazing_ , Emma feels like she never caught her breath after the other girl grabbed her hand, Emma feels like she’s found the truest possible friend, Emma feels like she’s never felt before in her  _life_.

(There are moments when Emma can’t help but feel suspicious, like this is all fake somehow. Sometimes it almost seems like Lily’s trying to avoid talking about certain things, like she’s hiding something and doesn’t want Emma to notice, so she covers it up with laughter instead.)

(But Emma has things she never wants to share, too – and there’s plenty of space on the couch, and three other chairs besides, but when they sit down, Lily’s side is pressed warm against hers.)

* * *

When she sees the mark on Lily’s wrist, she almost gets scared for a second, can’t help but ask. Thinks of cigarettes and – but it’s the wrong size, shape, everything really, and Lily waves it off easily.

“Oh, I – I don’t know, I’ve had this since I can remember,” she says, and her smile seems a little wistful this time, still a little mocking. Like this time the joke’s on herself. “I like to pretend it’s some kind of symbol, like Harry Potter or something.”

She says it complete with a ‘magical’ hand gesture, and Emma can’t help but laugh a little, but she feels an intense relief, too. She has the strange thought that of course no one could have scarred Lily, no one could burn her – she’s got a stronger fire in her than anything this world could ever produce. Lily seems – magical, truly, in a way deeper than all Harry Potter jokes, in the way she keeps _smiling_  like that. Lily seems indestructible.

“Like you’re one of a kind,” Emma says, and thinks _you are_ ; “Like you’re special.”

Lily looks away first, again. She’s blushing, and twisting her wrist around, and Emma wants to grab her hand again, link their fingers together and not let go.

“I know it’s stupid,” Lily whispers, smiling but ashamed.

“No, it’s not,” Emma tells her flat-out, because she wishes she still thought things like that herself. She used to, once – used to wrap her fingers up in that hand-knitted baby blanket and look at the elegant  _Emma_  sewn into it and think  _they must have loved me, this must mean something **special**_ , but it’s been a long long time since then.

Since Cecilia, she’s given up on even managing ‘normal’. The fact that Lily still plays her little game of pretend is probably one of the bravest things Emma has ever known. She wants to tell her all that, but her tongue feels clumsy, her cheeks hot when Lily still hasn’t looked away.

When she finally does, it’s with a shy sort of grin, a clumsy little twist of the lips that sets something in Emma’s ribcage to aching. She leans over to the table, grabs a marker, and then scooches even closer to Emma, lightly gripping her arm and pulling it onto her knee.

“’Kay,” she says, around a smile that she can’t seem to help, and starts to draw, “then you are special too.”

Emma can only watch as the star gets marked on her wrist. She feels clumsy and warm all over suddenly, feels the marker on her skin and Lily’s warmth against her side and Lily’s wrist resting on her open hand as she displays her star next to Emma’s new matching one, and she feels  _giddy_ , feels like maybe she can believe what this girl is telling her after all.

(Maybe, just this once – just for now – she really can be special too. Maybe if it’s just in Lily’s eyes, maybe that’s all that has to matter.)

“Thanks,” Emma says, looking up to meet Lily’s eyes, and Lily is  _smiling_  again, still, and then –

Then Emma does something brave.

* * *

(Lily’s lips feel hot against hers. Hotter than anything Emma has ever felt in her life, hot like it should  _burn_ .

It’s her first kiss, and she doesn’t want it to ever stop.)

* * *

When Emma pulls back, it’s slow; her eyes slide back open gently and her lips keep touching Lily’s until the last possible moment, and in that moment –

In that very last millisecond–

Lily’s lips press back.

Her eyes are closed too. She opens them slow, as well.

“Emma,” she says, mouth wobbling in this uncertain kind of way, and for a second she has this terribly sad look in her eyes and some part of Emma goes cold with fear… but then Lily is looking down at their hands, turning hers over so their wrists press together, the stars lining up and their fingers slotting back together again and it’s warm and familiar and  _good_  and, “Emma,” she says again.

She leans forward and kisses Emma a second time.

* * *

(It doesn’t feel any cooler this time. If anything, Emma feels like her blood’s heating up to match.

“Emma,” Lily sighs a third time, soft against her mouth, and Emma’s heart is beating so very fast.)

* * *

Just like everything else so far, Lily knows more about this than Emma does. But – for the first time – that doesn’t make her more immediately confident. She’s the one stopping, breath shaky against Emma’s lips, and her grip tightens on Emma’s hand, and she doesn’t move back in again.

So Emma lifts her free hand, and touches it to Lily’s hair. Soft at first, but when there’s no ‘no’, just another shaky breath against her lips, she stops waiting. Emma slides her hand down the side of Lily’s face, smooths her thumb across Lily’s cheek, and tilts her chin up a little closer. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but Lily’s breath hitches and Emma’s cheeks are burning and she kisses Lily again, and her lips kind of close over Lily’s bottom lip a little, and she can feel Lily  _shiver_ , and then–

Lily is pulling back with a gasp, only to tuck her knees up under her on the couch and face Emma completely, and she’s reaching up with her free hand to tug her fingers gently in Emma’s hair, but she’s keeping their other hands together, pressed star against star, and she presses forward with her whole body this time, kind of catches Emma’s lips with her own and  _rocks_  into it, chest brushing warm against Emma’s, lips pressing harder and pulling open –

Lily kisses Emma until she’s dizzy, gasping, and she’s trying to keep up but she feels warm all over and her lips are tingling and her palm is sweating against Lily’s, and Lily is so  _good_  at this, she’s taking Emma apart.

“L–Lily,” Emma mumbles out between kisses, “wait, I can’t–”

Lily kisses her one last time, the hardest yet, and Emma feels like she could  _die_ from this. All the more so when Lily pulls back and smiles down at her, bright as starlight.

(She’s been watching Lily’s smiles all night long, but this one – flushed and happy and a little messy from Emma’s  _mouth_  – this is by far her favorite.)

“What?” Lily asks, and her voice is just as breathless as it was in that alleyway, just as filled with glee. Her eyes are darker now, though, and she keeps stroking her hand through Emma’s hair. “What can’t you?”

“I can’t  _breathe_ ,” Emma flushes, and Lily laughs. It’s not a mocking laugh, though – soon, Emma’s joining her, a little sheepish but nothing more. She doesn’t feel like anything could make her feel truly bad right now. “Let’s take a break.”

“Just as long as we pick back up again later,” Lily says with a devilish  _wink_ , and Emma pushes her back with a laugh to go grab the video-camera she’s spotted on the table behind her.

They make faces at it, and laugh, and Emma can feel her face go bright red when Lily presses a kiss to her cheek (but really, she doesn’t mind).

* * *

“Let’s promise to stay – friends,” Lily says, and Emma can feel a huge grin on her face at the little hesitation, at the way Lily’s hand grips a little tighter on her knee. “Okay? No matter what, there won’t be anything we can’t come back from.”

“Okay,” Emma agrees with hardly a pause at all, and feels distantly like Lily’s touch, her  _smile_  have erased every trace of her self-preservation instincts. Somehow, she doesn’t mind. Somehow, she thinks there’s nothing to protect against, this time. “Yeah. Promise.”

“For real,” Lily said, too seriously.

“For real,” Emma promises back, and wants to kiss her again but thinks maybe this isn’t the right moment. Instead, she thinks about all the things that Lily shares with her, all the piled-up hurts; reasons to want someone who will never leave, so Emma stares Lily straight in the eyes and doesn’t lie to her.

That is the surest gift she can give.

* * *

(They do kiss, later. Lily teaches Emma how to breathe while kissing, and how to kiss with tongue, and how to kiss places other than the mouth. She squirms in close, slides a hand down Emma’s side, and holds on tight to her hip as she kisses her way down Emma’s neck complete with  _teeth_ ; she kisses Emma until they’re both gasping again, until Emma’s lips are buzzing, her whole body trembling with an unbearable warmth and tension that sends littlejolts of heat through her every time Lily presses closer – and then they kiss some more, gentler, calming down kisses, slow and soothing as Emma’s heartbeat gradually returns to normal.

They kiss until Emma’s jaw aches. They kiss until they can’t keep their eyes open, but they still haven’t stopped smiling. They kiss each other to sleep.

And Emma doesn’t want this to end, thinks  _we’re special_  with a smile and the knowledge that they won’t let it, goes to sleep completely content.)

* * *

That doesn’t even last until morning.

* * *

“I know I lied about my family, but everything else I said was true,” Lily says, but she doesn’t  _get it_ . Doesn’t realize how lying about that wasn’t just as simple as changing a few details about her past – she lied about  _who she was_ , she let Emma think – all those times Emma thought they were the same, all those grins, _she_  was the one Lily was laughing at, every time.

Lily has everything Emma has ever wanted, and she’s trying to throw it away just to play pretend and sneak in a few kisses with a girl stupid enough not to know better. Whatever Emma thought this was, whatever Emma thought they shared, she was completely  _wrong_. Just because Lily is crying now doesn’t change that.

(It’s the first time in her life she’s been the one who walks away.)

(Somehow, it’s even worse this way.)

* * *

Nearly a year later, Emma succeeds in running away for good. She puts her baby blanket and Ingrid’s card and that stupid video-tape in a box and tells herself she isn’t going to open it again. She isn’t going to listen to anyone who tries to tell her she’s  _special_ , ever again.

(She gets a flower tattooed on her wrist, five petals like a star. A reminder can’t hurt.)


End file.
